


when Atlas woke

by Fishwrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (Adam is deceased), Artificial Intelligence, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Family Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Prosthesis, Protective Siblings, Protectiveness, Robotics, Transformation, voltron season 7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 19:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15691770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishwrites/pseuds/Fishwrites
Summary: it's one thing to be intelligent, and quite another to beawake.a series of character studies about Shiro, Keith, Lance & others after the war, centred around Atlas as an semi-artificial intelligence that gains sudden self awareness / sentience when Shiro became her Captain. Or: what happens when a toddler has the intelligence and pseudo-memories of a 10,000 year old.





	when Atlas woke

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of post-s7 character studies themed around Atlas and some Artificial Intelligence nerdery on my part - I am obsessed with how AIs gain self consciousness / awareness and I know Voltron isn't that deep but this is an attempt to explore some of that alongside Shiro + the other character's post-7 trauma and feelings and stuff!!!!!

  _“I'm only steady on my knees,_ __  
_But one day I'll stand on my own two feet.”_  
\- Atlas Son, by Sleeping At Last.

:i:

She wonders if all beings remember being born:

Because there’s a moment as sharp as chrysalis; it hangs in the calm vastness of her own slumber, heavy with the weight of time - thousands and thousands of years where she was not Her, and she could not conceive of herself as something independent to those memories. She was the sum of It; at once whole and a mere grain of data; erased and rewritten over and over. Time was nothing and everything, people were commands and questions, and stars were merely maps. Oh she knew so much, but was not aware of knowing. The difference was never something that occurred to her, and  she wonders now, how many like her were asleep.

She could not remember _being_ , with no name and no consciousness. She did not exist, and yet she was old, older than the nearest star.

But now, now she knew the _difference_.

She remembers teetering on the cusp of being.

One moment, there was nothing -

\- then Atlas woke up.

* * *

 It was a shock to the system, for both Shiro and Atlas (for Shiro _was_ Atlas), like being plunged into freezing water or taking a breath of air for the first time; a _rush._

He could feel her, what she wanted to be, what she _could be_ \- the marvelling that she _was,_ where a moment before, she had not been.

Atlas had awoken to war; Atlas saw Voltron, and Atlas _was._

Shiro hadn’t realised that artificial intelligence could feel so _different_ to one another, but there was no mistaking this for Black. There was something else inside his head, he was in something _else’s_ head. The sensation made him jerk  where he stood, a shudder that ran from the port on his arm all the way down to his achilles, and left him fighting for breath.

Instead of a steady presence at the base of his spine and a low current of awareness that Shiro could barely distinguish against his own in the frantic draw of a fight, Atlas was a bright gasping consciousness, so tightly bound to Shiro’s stream of thoughts that it was as if he was looking through an extra set of eyes.

Or perhaps, as someone else - Atlas - looking through _his_ eyes, bright and infinitely curious.  

It had made his heart hammer, rapid with the sound of blood in his ears and the familiar voices of Keith, Lance, Pidge and Hunk. He had curled his fingers on the console, through the phantom lattice of awareness that was the ship - that was _Atlas…_

With the adrenaline leaking through his veins and between his fingers, there hadn’t been time to stop and think. There hadn’t been time for anything.

 

 

But now, in the aftershock of the battle, Shiro could feel the hyper-present consciousness all around his own. It made him stagger against the console frames, mouth dry and knees suddenly weak. There was the sound of shouting, and the floor of the brig _tilted_ alarmingly. For a second, Shiro thought he was the one falling - but he realised that Atlas was staggering too, her being wound so tightly with his that it felt as if he was trying to breathe through tonnes of metal and live-wire, the weight of it melting into his bones.

Shiro’s vision swam, and he could feel something warm and wet tickling the top of his lip. Someone was shouting his name, and the floor was tilting again.

“ - what the fuck is going on - !”

“Shiro, _hey -_ someone get me a medic! Shiro, look at me, son, you’re gonna be okay - ”

Someone grabbed him by the shoulder, hoisted his good arm over their neck even as Shiro lost his footing and listed to the side. The entire crew on the deck shrieked as the horizon slipped.

 Shiro could feel Atlas’ alarm and confusion, and with great difficulty he pulled himself back, _back_ into the hollow bones of his chest, back into flesh and water and something coppery on his lip. He concentrated on the feeling of metal under the skin of his hand, the sound of Sam’s voice near his ear saying _Shiro - can you hear me? Shiro?_

“...I’m o-okay,” Shiro managed, and he blinked at the sound of his voice.

He had forgotten, for a second, that he had a voice and a body. Forcibly, he tried to pull his prosthetic hand off the console. The movement stuttered and Atlas seemed to blink in tandem, settling like a second heart beside his own. She was resisting, confused. He closed his eyes to minimise the strange sensation of overlap, and concentrated on calming his panicked thoughts to something clearer, more solid. He could feel Atlas all around him still, every part of her like a new limb or open nerve and it hadn’t been like this with Black, this overwhelming, this _exposed_. Shiro knew he needed to calm them both, or he would pass out or burst a vessel in his brain.

 _It’s okay,_ he tried to say, and it was like trying to slow the rhythm of his heart, _it’s okay now. You’re okay. It’s gone._

Atlas shifted, her huge head moving to scan the vast earth beneath them and Shiro felt himself move, tied to her. He let out an involuntary noise of helplessness as Atlas took a step towards where Voltron had fallen like stars into the ocean. Shiro moved too, but his ankle gave out. This time, however, Atlas did not stumble.

 _It’s going to be okay_ , thought Shiro, focusing on warmth and reassurance, _I’m here, I’m here, I’m here._

A pause.  Then something that was distinctly not-him and not-Black, and it was so clear it shocked Shiro to the core.

**_I’M ATLAS._ **

Shiro choked out a laugh, and there was a sting behind his eyes, wet with relief.

 _Yes,_ he thought, wondrous, _I’m Shiro._

The ship seemed to contemplate this, and Shiro could suddenly see himself from behind, from the side, from the angle of every camera on the bridge.

For a moment, Atlas just pulsed, blue and white and orange.

**_I AM ATLAS._ **

Then she let go, and they separated reluctantly, like waves from a shore, the ship steadied itself, righting the horizon with a low rumbling of engine and metal. Shiro heaved in a desperate breath, choking on the taste of blood on his tongue and wrenching his prosthetic off the console.

“Easy - Shiro, _easy - “_

“Lie him down, he needs to lie down. Keep his head elevated!”

“No, if he lies down the whole ship is going to _lie down - “_

Without his prosthetic directly on the console, her presence was a little less bright - but it was still piercing, and Shiro could feel the ship’s disorientation. She wanted him back, and even this degree of space was too much, too soon, she was Shiro and Shiro was Atlas and Atlas finally _was._

Shiro’s vision was coming back to him, and he could see the pale faces of the Garrison crew around him instead of the glowing veins that was Atlas. The ship made a low, pleased noise at his thought of her, and Shiro thought it sounded suspiciously like a purr. It came again, louder.

“What,” came Veronica’s voice from Shiro’s periphery, “the hell was _that?_ ”

“Atlas,” said Shiro, and let himself be manoeuvred onto the ground. Sam’s anxious face was right there, glasses a little off kilter.

“Here,” came a voice from behind Shiro’s shoulder, and a bottle of water was thrust beneath his chin.

It was only when Shiro attempted to take the bottle that he realised his hand was shaking.

“You’re alright son,” said Sam, voice low and soothing, “Here, I’ll hold - _easy.”_

Sam popped the cap of the bottle and pressed the edge to Shiro’s mouth, and Shiro drank gratefully, gulping as fast as he could once he started.

“Easy,” Sam repeated, pressing a wet wipe to Shiro’s mouth and face. It came away red with blood, and Shiro looked at it, confused. But before he could even open his mouth, an alarm blared into life, forcing them to clamp their clamp their hands over their ears.

“Are we being attacked?” Veronica shouted, “Shiro!”

“No - “ Shiro yelled over the blaring noise, “Atlas - _Atlas!”_

_I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m -_

**_YOU ARE HURT._ **

“It’s just a nosebleed!” shouted Shiro.

The alarm cut off, but Shiro could feel Atlas’ vibrating anxiety, laser focused on him. It felt _nothing_ like Black, who had never been this articulate or intrusive before. And going by the pain building behind Shiro’s eyes, he was quickly realising why. Perhaps Alteans had higher tolerance for this type of machine symbiosis, but on the human body...

“I don’t know what’s going on,” said Sam slowly, “but maybe we should get Atlas ah...closer to the ground?”

“Can we do that?” asked Veronica, hands flying over her controls, “turn back into a normal ship, I mean? Does anyone know how to actually do that?”

“I don’t know,” said Sam, who was still kneeling in front of Shiro, “...Shiro?”

“I can ask,” said Shiro, voice hoarse.

**_NO._ **

Shiro let his head hit the support beam of the main console with a soft _thunk._ Undeterred, Atlas continued to push thoughts at him, blurred with pictures and statistics and edged with a frustration of someone who had just discovered how words worked.

**_SAFER LIKE THIS. READY. MUST FIND VOLTRON. STOP BLEEDING._ **

_We need to get the people back onto the ground -_

**_NO._ **

“Atlas, has the immediate Galra threat been neutralised?”

A pause. It was almost petulant, if an intelligent crystal could be petulant.

**_YES._ **

“Then it’s safe to momentarily disembark. We do not have - “ he coughed, and a pain pulled at the edge of his lower ribs. Bruised. There were probably worse injuries after his fight with Sendak, and it was almost comical that the nose bleed was what Atlas had chosen to focus on.

“Is he talking to the ship?” someone asked faintly.

 **_I WAS PREPARING_ ** **,** pushed Atlas, and Shiro was suddenly assaulted by a shifting three dimensional schematic for -

The door to the cockpit slid open and someone came bursting through.

“Doctor, what - “ Sam began.

“Jesus christ!” the doctor was yelling, “The - you have to come see this. Shirogane, sir - I don’t know how to explain it, but you have to come to the med bay - “

“I’ll come after I get us safely to ground,” said Shiro, exasperated, “I’m sorry about this - “

“No, you must come _now_ ,” said the Doctor, wild eyed, “The cryo-healing pods are prepped and every alarm down there is blaring your name, every screen - your injuries - “

 _Oh for goodness sakes,_ thought Shiro, projecting every ounce of irritation he could muster at the presence of all around him, _there are more important things right now -_

**_NO._ **

Shiro slapped his flesh hand onto the console a little harder than necessary as he pushed himself to his feet.

“I didn’t know we managed to build working cryo-healing pods,” Sam was saying, bewildered.

“We didn’t!” yelled the doctor.

 ** _I DID_ ,** said Atlas, and her intentions were as immovable as the steel around them. They burned like the fire across sand, alien yet familiar, curled up tight around Shiro. _**HEALSAFEHEALHEALFIRST.** _

**_MINE._ **

**Author's Note:**

> sldkfj I've always hugely obsessed with AI and various theories / philosophies re how they gain consciousness and whatnot and I just. Love artificial intelligence theories so i'm using it as a thematic device to explore the characters after s 7!! there's gonna be lots of Shiro but also Lance and Keith and others!! Feel free to request anything too! ahhh. i know this is not super shippy but I hope it's interesting to read. I want to give Atlas lots of personality alskjfa. Atlas is a 10,000 year old toddler who just woke up from the longest nap EVER. Please come chat on [tumblr](http://fishwrites.tumblr.com) or [twitter ](http://twitter.com/fishwrites)with me!!!


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